


Reverse Canon

by Doublematch



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crowley is Raphael, DM!God, Demon!Aziraphale, M/M, Mutual Pining, angel!Crowley, reverse fall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-05-19 11:34:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19356223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doublematch/pseuds/Doublematch
Summary: An AU where is Aziraphale to fall, inspired bythis workbyquadlinda.I hope It will be half as good as her/his/whatever likes most works.This is also for Ashenaiulyk, who braved so much for me and read R rated XD





	1. Of black holes and oranges

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ashenaiulyk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashenaiulyk/gifts).



> I need a relax from my hurt fest, so here we go with another tale of mutual pining.

Crowley could not believe it. All it take to be demoted this days was being distracted a little and grow a supergiant a bit much. Who would have thought it will became a black hole?  
Sure, it was the one on the centre of the Milk Way, but this way the galaxy seemed holding together better, won't you think?  
Michael and Gabriel were fuming with celestial rage, and God herself took him out of the project, changed his name, and put him in this garden to ward it against nothing at all.  
It could have been worse.  
He could have fall.  
Just the thought of it made him shiver.  
He sat on the wall, legs dangling down.  
Maybe next time they'll met, his friends will have forgiven him. She did forgave him, after all.

– – – 

The being once called Aziraphale was faced with a difficult choice. His name.  
After much thoughts he decided to go with Azirafell. What a nice play on words.  
The other demons were livid. They had not humour at all, and his choice to keep his name close to the original was not making him popular.  
“Do us a favour, go up there and make some trouble. Looking at you is insufferable.”  
Maybe he will find something juicy to eat.

The garden was full of fruits, but he wanted to taste them all. A pity indeed that the tree was protected against him going near.  
He spied on the angel who had to look after the place, and his mouth already watered. That was interesting. Maybe he could try and taste him sometimes. Gluttony and lust are not so dissimilar. The flaming sword on the angel sinful hips made him stop. For days, while they were the only two roaming the place, he hides from view and sated his want with hidden glances and picking the best fruits he could find.

– – – 

For days now Crowley had felt something different between the plants. He strolled absent-mindedly, and talked them into giving fruits more and more delicious. The place will be ready for when She will put humans into it, and maybe he will have his old job back.  
But the juiciest of the produce kept disappearing.  
It was on one of this walks that he catches a glimpse of the demon on the river water. He was eating an orange he just then convinced to be bigger than the rest, and had a lovely expression. What bad can he do?  
He intensified his talking, and the garden grew and grew.


	2. Of badgers and applepies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Azirafell animal form could never be a snake.

Humans were created and put in the Eden.  
Crowley was given the job of warding the walls against people crossing it, and Gabriel took tending to the gardens, Adam and Eve.  
Crowley was kind of sad: his old friend has become bitter against him, unwilling to forget his little error. He would have told him about the demon already inside Eden, but the still archangel gave him the cold shoulder and kept send him back to the wall.  
There he now was, napping his sadness away.

Azirafell didn't like the new angel tending the gardens. That Gabriel kept sending the pretty one, who he now know was called Crowley, away. And he would not risk to be seen by climbing on the wall.  
Gabriel never acknowledged him been into the garden, totally engrossed on teaching things to the humans.  
The fruits weren't good as before.  
Azirafell looked up and saw Crowley probably sleeping.  
Gabriel was on the other edge of the gardens.  
Since the tree was out of question, he could as well take a peak at the other thing he wanted. He shifted on his badger form, and reached the sleeping angel.  
Finally he could observe him at will. He suspected Crowley noticed him, but he didn't take action or told Gabriel.

Up near, this small angel was a sight to behold.  
Azirafell approached carefully, and investigated the small white sigil that could be seen on the side of his face, barely visible against the tanned skin. A dove. He always wondered what it would be.  
Making use of his enhanced smell on this form, he inhaled the angel's fragrance. Grass just cut, grapes and a hint of... was that cinnamon? He would taste him so eagerly.  
Crowley stirred, and he hastily retreated to the ground.

The angel woke, and a unfamiliar smell catch his attention. A strange combination, vanilla, some kind of fruit and a vaguely burnt aroma of... flour and eggs? How strange. The same he would catch around the most verdant trees. The elusive demon must have come near. It would be nice having a friend again, he mused with a timid smile.

Down in the garden, Azirafell found a nice surprise: Gabriel had took Adam elsewhere, and Eve was alone near the tree. Looking at his fruits with an expression similar to his own. He could sense her want.  
Well, since he was here to do some trouble, he might as well do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can change if serpents are good and badgers are evil? And Crowley dont recognize the smell of charred applepie because 1-apples 2-no pies still


	3. Of rain and grapes

Crowley was dangling his foots down the wall, face hidden on his hands. He heard a flap of wings and the elusive demon joined him; he had his arms full of oranges, and sat cross-legged to his left.  
“Come to gloat, have you?”  
Tears could be heard on his voice.  
Azirafell didn't like it.  
“No. I wanted to share something... Crowley. It is Crowley, right?”  
The angel looked at him, golden eyes puffed and red from crying.  
“And you will be?”  
“Azirafell”  
The demon looked at Crowley pensively.  
“Didn't you had a sword?”  
“I gave it away. Thanks to you, they have been cast out. She is with child, the night is dark and could. What was I to do?”  
Crowley started to cry again. Azirafell was disturbed by the sight. That was not his plan. He continued eating his oranges, throwing the peels off into the desert.  
Dark clouds started to gather.  
Crowley continued talking.  
“Why did you do it? I bet it was just to eat the fruits yourself.”  
He looked at the oranges, then back to the demon.  
“Eat them all already?”  
Azirafell shook his head.  
“Only one seemed ripe enough, and Eve took it. As you can see, I resorted to oranges.”  
“But why?”  
The question was so soft it was barely audible.  
“Look, I'm a demon. I had to made some trouble. Is not my fault if she longed for that tree so much! And why put it there to begin with, it's like asking for disobedience!”  
The angel was already looking to the distance, where a small flaming stripe could be seen.  
“I hope I did it right. Maybe I will not have my job back, but I just hope to be forgiven.”  
The clouds rumbled.  
Azirafell would have loved to taste the only temptation left in the garden, but just being there sated his need.  
“What if I did the wrong thing with the sword and you the right with the apple?”  
Rain started to fall for the first time ever.  
Absent-mindedly, Azirafell shielded the angel.  
"That could be a problem. I'm not supposed to do the right thing.”  
After the storm passed, they parted ways.

Next time they met is raining again. In fact, it has been raining for three weeks, and Azirafell found difficult to keep flying.  
When this Deluge business was about to start, he popped out to China, but he kept thinking about the lithe angel. Crowley was soft and sensible, and would be surely devastated by the natives deaths. He searched for him around, but to no avail. Only one place was left.  
When his forces are almost over, he sees him; perched on what once was a mountain top, Crowley was trembling. Azirafell landed on what small place he had. The angel glared at him.  
“What do you want, Azirafell? There's nothing to eat here.”  
Oh, how are you wrong, thought the demon, sliding down a sac miraculously not wet at all.  
Azirafell shielded, once more, Crowley, took out a cloth and thrown it on the angel head.  
“Dry up. It won't do seeing an angel wet like a duckling.”  
Crowley's eyes darted to the demon.  
“Even the kids. She drowned even the kids.”  
Azirafell took out some bread, break it and shared it.  
“This one I kept as just baked. Could make you feel better.”  
“I don't need it. And neither do you.”  
“But just try it out. Is not need, is the discover of something new.”  
“I'll pass.”  
Crowley seem searching for something far away, over the clouds.  
“You know, after all this She's going to gave two gifts to the humans. A rainbow as a promise not to drown everyone again. I saw the projects time ago, it will be brilliant.  
And grapes. Humanity hadn't see them since the garden. A promise of new life. That one, I would taste.”  
When the water retreated, almost three weeks later, Azirafell's wing was sore and dapper than the new soil beneath them. It would take him months to wet it properly and fly again. But his angel smiled looking at the first rainbow, and he filed that first smile he saw on the angel face on a list of “things I need to taste”. List which featured Crowley a lot.  
Looking at him had to be enough: he still remembered what happens when someone picks from a tree with a “NO TOUCH” sign on it. Azirafell decided then that he will protect that strange sweet angel. Just to savour it later, of course. Little he know that he would fall a little more every time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is someone ready for my favorite DM!God next chapter?


	4. Of dice and manuals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one, to know our favorite DM.

As is by now known, God does no play dices with the Universe.  
At this point of our story, She sat cross-legged shuffling Her notes, checking the narrative for the next turns.  
Her fury for the constant deviation from her plot line was subsiding, and truth to be told She was anxious about revealing the rainbow. She had worked on that a long time. She huffed, thinking about the lone unicorn on the Arc. So many plans foiled for a simple distraction. If you look carefully near Her, you could see a pile of crumpled paper.  
How to find something nice and pure to set as example for all players to follow? Another note joined the pile, while the Almighty checked through Her notebooks. She stops abruptly, eyes glued on two sheets, as far away from each other as possible, who started glowing, new informations adding to their story.  
She manifested a frappuccino (sooner or later the humans will have to taste this), and picks them up. That was unexpected. Her personal troublemaker (who still think he's going away with the sword) , and one of the fallen, under the endless rain.  
She reached for her dices, and a kind smile found his way from the lips to Her eyes.   
What would be the best course of action?  
She rolled, and checked the result against a long table.  
Her smile became an outright laugh: even the dice were favourable to those two.  
The two sheets were pinched together, and placed right alongside Her personal notes.

Those impossible being would be Her pet project, forget the unicorns.  
Sipping, She relaxed and enjoyed the first rainbow. It will be fun to watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DM!God is a must for me.


	5. Of fish and oysters

Atop the Golgotha, Crowley was pensive on the shadow of the cross. He had stopped to cry for humanity misfortunes since Egypt, after the first borne plague.  
Azirafell was there, obviously. Whenever humans suffered, ha was there munching on something; if he didn't know better, he would think him was behind all the mess. But the plagues, the Deluge and all the others punishments were not caused by demons.  
That time, Azirafell tried to cheer him up offering a cup of wine; he had already tasted grapes, he could as well try that. Wine had been a nice finding: take the promise of a new life, spoil it and it became better. He liked it a lot. It was just as he wanted his life to be.  
In the present, Crowley was so absorbed on his thoughts that didn't see Azirafell walking towards him.  
“Crowley.”  
The angel almost jumped. He then proceeded to look around, baffled. There was no food on sight.  
“What took you here, Azirafell?”  
The demon looked at the cross.  
“Saying goodbye. Did you met him?”  
“No. But I liked his way of thinking. You?”  
“I got lost, and found myself on a big crowd. They were all famished, and he had little food. He was trying to gave it to the children first, but it would never be enough. I was peckish too, so I kinda helped.”  
Azirafell leaned to Crowley's ear, moving gently away the long red hairs.  
“But obviously this is a secret between us.”  
Crowley blushed.  
“I would have done the same. For the kids.”  
“I know.”  
As the sun slides down, they stood to not leave him alone.

Azirafell was leaning into a calidarium. The water was warm, and he was already thinking about the oysters he will eat. In the past years, the demon had taken to wear dark glasses to conceal better his fully black eyes.  
Someone dared to enter near him.  
“Azirafell. How's going? I've heard there is a new taberna raging, so I was sure to find you near.”  
Crowley.  
Behind the glasses, he took in the angel body, eyes greedy to memorize it all. A half smile found his way to the demon's lips when he found his angel had made the effort, while his mouth watered. Bless the oysters, there was something much more interesting just here.  
“Yes, as you guessed I'm here for Petronius' oysters. Can I tempt you to join me? They say his red is something made for the gods.”  
Crowley leaned into his shoulder.  
“You know very well that's not possible. But maybe I should investigate it.”  
The touch of the skin on skin sent shivers to all Azirafell's body.  
“I was thinking...” , continued Crowley,”Azirafell is such a mouthful. How do friends call you?”  
The demon snickered.  
“I don't have friends, angel.”  
“That's a lie.”  
Azirafell looked at Crowley.  
“You have at least me as I friend, I hope.”, the angel huffed.  
Friend.  
With an angel.  
That's no good.  
The demon smiled.  
“As you wish”  
Crowley was happy. Finally, he could have a friend again.  
“Then, I get to decide how your friends call you.”  
“Beware of that word, angel. You don't want some stuck up archangel to hear you.”  
“Well, Zira, I believe them do not care of me at all.”  
Azirafell winched at the shortening, but he could not refuse anything to this angel.  
“If you say so.”  
The demon rose and stretched his hand.  
“Now, to Petronius. I've heard that there is a friendship to celebrate.”  
And so they did, Azirafell eating his weight on oysters and Crowley drinking the sweetest red he had ever tasted.  
When they parted, the image of the angel body haunted Azirafell's nights for many centuries.


	6. Of roses and water

With the passing of the ages, the bond between Crowley and Azirafell grew.  
They met on every important point of human history and on most of the trivial ones too.  
The demon was always running after some food or another, stopping just enough time to execute the few orders and, occasionally, to gave the last push to humans lusting for something they shouldn't want.  
Crowley kept suffering for the humans, easing his sorrows with wine and chats with his friend. His best friend. His only friend, always there to help him up.  
They noted that, more often than not, their orders were to cancel each others actions. It was so evident, they slipped into what they started to call “the Arrangement”: only one of them did the work for both.  
The angel was reluctant at first, but had became evident to him that his old friends didn't care either way. It was like they had forgotten him with the passing time.  
It was all good, since the Arrangement gave him more time to spend with little kindnesses to the suffering and to tend to his plants.  
Crowley loved plants as he had loved the stars, but it was a bittersweet feeling; it reminded him of when, in the Garden, were only him and Azirafell. The flowers nowadays were so much stubborn and less prone to listen to gentle nudges. He had to scream at them, sometimes, because they didn't comply to simple instructions like “Don't go wilting”.  
In time, his collection of plants grew. To save the appearances, he opened a flower shop. Not that some silly “customer” could waltz in there and go away with one of his treasures, mind you. He only ever sold, or even gifted, to the ones who needed something positive to cling on. Before the sale, he would take the chosen plant to the back room and made clear what would happen if she ever thought of disappointing him. Those fortunate customers kept the flowers almost forever, their aura calming and protecting, while inside they trembled with fear of the angel checking on them.  
The most prized exemplar of his collection was a rose bush, whose flowers were an impossible skin like pink dappled with bright yellow. It was the only plant not scared of him, and listened to his suggestions always gladly. That rose was the present Azirafell gave him for the shop opening, and he started talking with her when the demon was not around.  
Like the day we're watching now, on the late years of 1800.  
“You know, it's been an awful long time since Zira last came visiting. I wonder what he's up to. Maybe he ran abroad to find some dusty book for his hoard.”  
The door opened, and the demon appeared. He seemed pained.  
“Angel. I need a favour.”  
“What is it?”  
“I've written it down.”  
Crowley looked at the note.  
Holy water.  
“Never”  
“Please, I need it.”  
“Never, I said. Is not something new to taste, Zira. This will destroy you. Tell me what for, and maybe never will became a no.”  
“As insurance, if things go wrong.”  
“Then never it is.”  
“Fine, have it your way.”  
With those words, Azirafell left.  
The angel was trembling with rage: how did he dare to ask him for something to destroy himself? How did he dare to even think of leaving him alone?

To understand Azirafell request, we have to look some months back, when he was called for a report.  
All went as usual, but Hastur, Ligur and Beelzebub asked a last question.  
“What about that angel, Crowley?”  
“What about?”  
Play dumb.  
“He's not a problem, is he?”  
“A problem?”  
“Yes, dumb disappointment of a demon, a problem. Remember, if he interferes, we need him out of the picture.”  
Azirafell was at loss for words.  
“Out of the...”  
“Yes, discorporated or, better, engulfed in flames. Is it clear?”  
“... clear?”  
Finally they dismissed him.  
He made back to his house and started pacing.  
His personal interest on that succulent angel had changed in many ways since Rome. Friend, had Crowley said at the time. Love, would dare to think now the demon.  
Don't get him wrong, he still wanted to eat him whole.  
To taste his smile.  
But he didn't want only to take: he wanted to give.  
He wanted to make him laugh.  
He wanted to be desired.  
He wanted to cheat on the coin toss for the Arrangement, just to give him more time with those plants of his.  
He tried, many times, to say it was only physical need. And he did go out to search for some human who could resemble him and quench his thirst. It never worked.  
So, he could never, as they said, “take him out of the picture”.  
He needed him safe, even at the cost of his own existence. If downstairs will ask him to harm Crowley, or suspected he was, Satan forbid, helping him, he needed a way out. He needed holy water, so it would seem the angels doing.  
It took time to find the courage to face Crowley. Once refused, Azirafell retreated into his private library (or, as Crowley loved to call it, his hoard) and lost himself between the books for a long time.


	7. Of cars and falls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are ready to rush to the end. Many thanks to all who read it, it has been a fun time writing it.

Humans are so ingenious, thinks Crowley while driving his new toy. The Bentley was shining under the sun, her impeccable white almost blinding. Taking her to the maximum speed made him feel as flying through the stars again. He needed to show her to his friend. Maybe they could go somewhere for a picnic, and the angel was already thinking about what food bringing to have the perfect relax.  
The incident, as he started calling Azirafell's request, was still dividing them, and Crowley wanted to try and recompose that fracture.

Since that day, Zira evaded him.

Spending time alone with his roses, he came to slowly realize that the demon was more than a friend. He was … like a brother.

Yes, sure, like a brother, obviously. They were made from the same stock, after all. Just like a brother, he kept telling himself.

Sometimes he wondered about who he was Before, to make him feel so at ease. So at home. He knew it was impossible for the two of them to have met, because he spent all his time with the stars, Michael and Gabriel the only one who bothered to join him. Aside... there was someone else, but he could not remember well. An angel who took him messages. All he could recall of him was a bright smile.

Azirafell was in his mansion, reading one of his favourite books of prophecies. He was just back from another wild goose chase to find the only one he was missing to have a complete collection, but “The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutt, witch” seemed more a myth than reality.

Humans were going so fast, in the past years, and he didn't like it. He would prefer having the time to enjoy his pleasures, to find the perfect food, the perfect taste. The perfect restaurant to share with Crowley.

For the first time in almost 6000 years, he stopped to think about his fall.

He wasn't one of the rebels. He asked for it. He put himself on Her path as She was ready to punish the kindest of those blasted archangels.   
He plead for him, then screamed his outrage.  
Her last words to him were “So, you will fall for him. You will take most of his punishment, and he will never fall.”

How stupid had he be. To put himself on the line for a blessed archangel who then went missing, unheard of for all of time since that moment.

Crowley called from the door.  
“Zira, are you home? I was thinking about a picnic. I've packed your favourite apple pie.”

Now, that slim angel would have been a nice cause to fall, with those eyes of gold, and red lips.

For today, the demon will be sated with the pie and his companion laughter, who he was missing terribly.

Or at least, that was his plan.


	8. Of war and past

God was already feeling sorry for the narrative humans choose to pursue. Another war was already brewing, and She had her hands tied. The dices decided so. The game must be followed.  
She took time to read what his favourite pair was up to, just to ease Her pain.

Obviously, the Almighty remembered Aziraphale fall.  
Nonetheless, Raphael did need to pay some price for his constant carelessness, and the principality falling left an opening.

Truth be told, She didn't fathom them reuniting on Eden's walls, without recognizing each other.  
Their memories of the time spent together were hazy at best.

Raphael, one of his favourites, who was always so alone between the stars: She used to speak with him a lot, disclosing Her plans. He had always been easily distracted, forgetting things to do and in need of constant reminding.  
That's why She made Aziraphale: while waiting for the Eden to be ready, he would help Raphael to keep in touch with the others and keep him focused.

Then , the chaos of the rebellion distracted the archangel, and the nova at the centre of the galaxy became a black hole.  
She was so furious, but the principality blocked Her path and questioned Her intent. Aziraphale had to fall.

Without him, Raphael lost his focus completely.  
He changed, so She changed his name and gave him an easier job. And maybe wiped some memories a bit, so it would not be awkward to respond to orders from the others.  
How could Sandalphon go and tell Raphael what to do?  
They remembered him better on the olden days, but now they just let him be, unsure of why that principality made them feel so uneasy.

Look at them now.

The one always trying to find new flavours using restrain, and the one always questioning and forgetting what to do, totally focused and trusting on his friend.

She hopes that they could teach all others to believe in love, and to fight for it.


	9. Of pies and memories

The Bentley, in Azirafell opinion, was terrifying. And Crowleys driving style was fast and carefree, so sure that no bad could happen that the whole world didn't dare to contradict him.   
The demon supposed this to be some kind of torture to make somebody pray for salvation with all his strength; luckily, before it could work on him, they reached the countryside.

A lone tree stands on the side of the road, his shade inviting.

“There should be good.”  
Crowley stopped, and took out a blanket and the basket.  
“Let's go Zira. We never had a picnic.”  
“Yes we had. In the 800 something was the last time, I believe.”  
“Stopping to rest in the middle ages does not count. That was the norm”, huffed the angel.

They placed the blanket and sat, one cross-legged in front of the other, who was sprawled resting his back against the tree trunk.   
Soon, Azirafell was enjoying the pie while his companion drank.

“Usually one eats the sweets at the end of the meal.”  
“Usually one eats while comfortably seated, yet here we are.”  
Crowley suppress a smile, and one of his hands moves fast to Azirafell's face, fingers lightly brushing on his cheek.  
“Look at you, you managed to get pie all over your face”, he jokes.  
With a swift move, the demon stopped the retracting hand and licked the crumbles. He then proceed to close the distance between them.  
“Well, I would never want something so sweet to get wasted, angel.”, whispered the demon in Crowley's ear.  
The angel flushes from the array of emotions passing through him, but already his friend/foe/whatever retracted and resumed his eating.

Looking at the angel blush, Azirafell struggled to contain himself. It would be easy to lean back in and steal a kiss. His side won't surely mind, trying to corrupt an angel. Get to see how much more he can blush. Having those lips call his creator in the most sinful ways. Instead, he just fixates on the food , without looking up.  
Azirafell can hear his friend moving – don't look up – and get closer. He closes his eyes, thankful for the shades, while he feels pulled on an embrace he can't return to not expose himself.  
He can feel wet skin against his face, and a question.  
“Who were you? Who were you to make me feel like this?”  
“Just a nobody with a silly infatuation and a mouth too big for his own good”, he responded, trying to break free.  
But Crowley didn't let go.  
“Is that why you fell? Because of love?”  
A hand finds his way to the white hairs of the demon, and keeps him close.  
“I'm so sorry for you. I can feel it hurts you still, burning under your skin.”  
Azirafell managed a hollow laugh.  
“That's hellfire, angel.”  
“Don't lie to me. I know what love feels like, Zira. And yours, it has the strength of the nova that should have been the center of this galaxy.”

The demon stilled. Nobody knew that aside from the archangels, and he happened to know just because of...  
“Raphael?”

The world came to a stop. Crowley was sure by now nobody remembered him.   
How could Zira?   
No, not Zira. Azirafell. A kind, brilliant smile and two sapphire eyes looking up at him while he hangs the stars.

Aziraphale.

The one created to help him, the one who should have guarded the East gate. He had fell for love?

“Aziraphale”, he asked softly, “why did you fall?”

Hearing his old name was too much.   
Knowing he was in love, in lust and in everything between the two with the exact one he longed for Before.   
Feeling the sorrow on his voice. He had to respond and he had to tell the truth.

“For you not to fall”

– – –

In Her room, God smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters on one go, just because God one is so small. 
> 
> Crowley is so much tactile than Aziraphale, and Azirafell has no restrain at all. He don't have restrain even as an angel, how can he endure as demon?
> 
> Let me know what you think! I need it, or I wont grow better. You can even yell at me like Crowley does with his plants. I don't mind.  
> My Tumblr is doublematch , stop by and say hello.


	10. Of love ond lust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we are under the tree.

Under the tree, the time was almost frozen. The once archangel could feel the once angel trembling against him, eyes still shout.  
“For you not to fall.”

Crowley could not believe the truth. Slowly, the hand on Azirafell's hair made way to his face, tilting it slightly up. Without even thinking, the angel chastely kissed his supposed enemy.  
Azirafell's arms were still, hands closed, body tens from the exertion of not taking what was in front of him.  
“Raphael...”  
The name was a plea, to what end he didn't know.   
To stop? To continue?

“I'm him no more. I'm Crowley.”  
He cupped the demon's face with both hands.  
“And I'm yours.”

Azirafell moved forward fast, pushing the angel on his back, running one hand from hips to pectorals while the other arm supported him, hand near Crowley's cheek. He traced the outline with his thumb.  
“Don't joke with me, angel”, he growls just before forcefully kissing his prey. The taste of Crowley's lips made him groan with lust, deepening the kiss, exploring the mouth offered to him.   
Crowley didn't stop him, but arched his back and then pulled him close just to roll them around, hips slightly grinding.   
When they stopped, both were flustered and panting, searching for air they didn't need.  
Their clothes were a mess, the picnic devastated.  
Crowley giggled at the sight.  
“Zira, could you miracle this chaos to order?”  
Looking down with his golden speckled eyes, he licked his lips before continuing.  
“I believe we need to go home.”  
Abruptly, he rose.

Azirafell whined, already missing the weight atop him. Then, the words registered.  
Clean here. Go home.  
Before he could miracle them both away, Crowley stops him.  
“We are going to your mansion, but with my Bentley. Or else no more kissing.”

A ride into that monstrosity against Crowley's kisses, and still Azirafell stopped to think about his choices before stepping into the car.

As soon as they get through the door, Azirafell took off his glasses and turns to face his desired. The fast ride did nothing to ease the ache in his loins, and he knew he would not restrain himself much longer.  
“Are you sure of what you want, angel? I won’t give you another chance to back off. I can't.”  
Crowley stepped into his personal space and took his hand.  
“Take me to your room.”

The next thing heard into the mansion was the laughter of the angel, when they were miracled directly into the bed without clothes on.  
“Zira!”  
Azirafell looked at the body underneath him hungrily.  
“I've dreamt of this since Rome.”  
He started placing a trail of kisses from the collarbone going down, greedy hands exploring the body and stopping to caress his beloved hips. The kisses stopped. He studied Crowley; his eyes were wide open, the chest rapidly rising.  
“You look so delicious. Let me worship you.”  
And so he did, while the angel called his name.  
They spent the night discovering each other and losing themselves just to be found again, limbs entangled, in the light of dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always knew that Azirafell didn't had the restrain needed to left that angel alone. And Crowley likes to go fast.


	11. Of Heaven and plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it ends.

Their daily life continued as always for almost a fortnight. Strolling in the park, feeding the ducks and then spending the nights together, lost to a world who was not ready to see two male looking bodies entangling in passion.  
They both knew this small slice of Eden would not last, and wanted to make the most of it.  
It was a lazy afternoon at the flower shop. Crowley and Azirafell were chatting at the counter, the angel sitting on it and his other half near, fingers almost daring to touch.  
The door opens and they quickly recompose just to see Gabriel and the other archangels enter. Azirafell moved as to shield his angel, only to find himself showed behind him.  
“This has to stop right now, Crowley.”, says Gabriel gesturing towards them.  
“Just water him down and resume your duties”, added Uriel pointing to a carafe held by Michael.  
Crowley reached behind him and entangles his fingers with Azirafell's.  
With a small miracle, the glass shatters.

“No.”

“How do you dare to go against orders, angel?”, asked Sandalphone.  
“Because there is more love in him alone than in all of you combined.”, responds Crowley, deliberately turning his back and kissing his dear demon with passion.  
“So you choose to fall and death for both of you.”  
Michael manifested her sword and throws herself against them, only to be stopped by a barrier.  
“What's the meaning of this?”,she demands.

Crowley returned his attention to them, and manifested his wings.  
All six of them.  
The other archangels froze in shock.  
“So you did forget about me. For real.”  
His hair grows long and his eyes are molten gold.  
“I am Raphael, creator of stars, the healer. And I say you won't harm the one I love.”  
Gabriel looked at his wings, expecting them to turn black any time. Nothing happened.  
Azirafell moved to nest comfortably under Crowley's arm and pulled a face at them.  
Gabriel was on the verge of having a fit.  
“If you think that the Almighty will let this pass, you are”

“Definitely right”, finished a voice from behind the counter.

All of them stopped seeing God, who slowly reached Crowley and cupped his cheek.  
“It's been a long time”  
She then looked at Azirafell.  
“Aziraphale, guardian of the East gate. As I promised, he will not fall.”  
She turned to Gabriel.  
“Speak freely, but beware of what you say. You don't have the protection I bestowed onto them.”  
Gabriel pointed a Crowley.  
“He dares to consort with a demon!”  
“To do what the humans on Sodoma did”, supplies Sandalphon.  
“Exactly, well put.”, conceded Gabriel  
“Raphael dared to love. That's the whole point, archangel.”  
Gabriel was fuming with rage. He knew better than outright questioning, and it was hard to find the right words.  
“The point of what?”, asked tentatively Michael.  
“The point of the plan. Not war, not hate, not sin, not beauty. Just love. And be kind. Was that hard? Look at them.”, She gestured,”Aziraphale loved before there was time, and found a way to love even as a demon. Raphael didn't know other love than mine, but he learned. And you should too.”  
“What, loving demons?”, spat Gabriel.  
“Beware, that's your only warning. Yes, loving even demons, if that's what you feel like.”  
And She disappeared on a flash of light.  
Michael miracled away the residues of holy water.  
“Well, Raphael, it seems you are right. Happy to have you back.”  
Crowley retracted two pairs of wings and wrapped the last one around his Azirafell.  
“I'm Crowley, now. And I don't want back. I want here.”  
They were left alone in the shop, to enjoy the Heaven they created for themselves.

Gabriel was on tower bridge, looking down. Alongside him, Beelzebub appeared.  
“So?”, they asked.  
He shifted with discomfort.  
“It seems we had the Great Plan wrong. I suppose we should meet more often to, ehm, exchange notes, of course.”  
Beelzebub looked up to him expectantly.  
“Agreed”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What now? It's still 193X, and Apocalypse won't ever start. And seems to me that someone is trying something different. But the important thing is they are together and happy. 😁  
> A million thanks to all who read, bookmarked, subscribed, kudoed, commented.  
> I could not have done it without you.  
> Stop to my Tumblr to say hello!  
> Doublematch


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